


Blades and Scars

by enemytosleep



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Mild Gore, Mind Games, Past Abuse, Survival Horror, What Have I Done, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-06 18:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17350514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemytosleep/pseuds/enemytosleep
Summary: Keith has always been keen to learn about his heritage, especially once he knew how unusual it was. The Blades of Marmora seem equally as curious about Keith.





	1. Blades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boywonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywonder/gifts).



> Written for the 2018 Fandom_Stocking exchange on Dreamwidth.
> 
> [Candyfoxdraws](https://www.instagram.com/candyfoxdraws/) somehow, without ever meeting me, reached into my brain and [drew Regris the way I picture him](https://www.instagram.com/p/BeTs7u7ARvN/?utm_source=ig_share_sheet&igshid=1k1g75lwmf9qb) without the helmet. Please go check out their work for more fun Galra designs ([additional Regris illos are a given](https://www.instagram.com/p/BeplXrQgxCy/)). 

“Well that’s certainly something,” the larger Mamoran uttered as he piloted their speeder right up to the wormhole Allura had opened for them scant tics before.

“Galran hyperdrive tech has always tried to recreate the work of the Alteans, but it looks like we were pretty damn short, eh?”

Their voices were filtered through their masks, mechanical and anonymous, the same as every other Blade of Mamora Keith had met so far; admittedly, that list was rather short and mostly contained interactions with Kolivan and — and those who were dead. Keith gripped the backs of each pilot seat as he stood between them in the tiny cockpit. There was a cargo area and a bench in the back of the ship, probably used for mission drop offs, but he wanted to be up front for this.

“All right, hang on to your seats.” 

The unnamed pilot pushed the ship forward, the rounded bow touching the magic of the wormhole and disappearing beyond it. Then, they were in that familiar tunnel where time and space seemed to fold around them in a weird, shifting vortex of darkness. It was dizzying and disorienting. Keith had vaguely considered once before whether the wormholes opened some pocket of subspace, but in the end he’d given himself a headache thinking about it, and Pidge’s explanations had gone well above his understanding of such topics almost as soon as they’d started talking.

“It looks like there’s another gate ahead,” the smaller Galran said, his tail typing something into one of the hologram screens while his two hands, four long fingers each, gripped the sides of his seat. Keith had never known a Galran to be nervous about anything, but maybe he was misreading this. Still. 

“Yeah, the wormhole is a tunnel with the exit point already plotted,” Keith said. “Don’t ask me how it works.”

“Interesting.” Keith noticed the slightest sibilance to his words, even through the mask. The Galra were a pretty diverse group, and more than anyone Keith appreciated how very, very different part-Galrans could appear. He recalled one of Lotor’s generals having a tail sort of like this guy’s; he wondered if he’d ever get to see this agent’s face, or if he’d remain behind the mask, another nameless cog in the rebel machine.

Their ship broke through the exit gate and they were once again in normal space, the familiar black expanse dotted with faraway stars settled firmly around them. Directly in front of the ship was some sort of gas planet, and a gargantuan one at that. Three debris belts, each on their own axis, wrapped themselves around the muddy gas giant. The Mamoran pilot continued their course directly toward the planet, and neither offered any insight on their destination. So far, Keith had seen an outpost hidden within a fabricated pocket of space-time and a larger base hidden in an astroid orbiting a blue star caught between two black holes. Wherever this base was, it already seemed tame in comparison. 

“You know, on the one hand I’m glad we didn’t have to fly several quintant just to get here, but on the other, I’m sad we lost the time. I’m curious.”

Keith wasn’t sure who the pilot was speaking to, so he kept his mouth shut and listened. The ship was coming up to one of the planet belts, full of astroids and space rubble multiple times the size of their tiny ship.

“I mean, we’ve heard about the Voltron Coalition and the strides they’ve made in taking down the empire. I’d thought they were all secret Alteans.”

“Alteans?” Tail Guy questioned. “Why Alteans?” That also wasn’t what Keith was expecting to hear, though honestly he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting. Not that, though. 

“Yeah, we thought they were all dead, same as Voltron; and then they were back and straight into the fight. I just figured it was related somehow.”

“I guess so,” said the co-pilot. “I never really thought about it.”

The pilot slowed the ship and began edging their way into the debris belt. “But now it seems like these paladins are from a planet called Earth? What sector is that? And this guy,” the pilot jerked his head to indicate Keith, “he’s gotta be Galran to be a Blade, but he looks the same as the Earth paladins. So. I’m curious.”

“I see your point.” The smaller Mamoran pulled up a new screen, still typing with his tail. 

Another masked Blade of Mamora popped into the visual field. “Access code.” The co-pilot entered a code into his console. “Access granted.”

The pilot leaned over his shoulder to face Keith, the two artificial lights of his mask boring into him. “We’re home.”

*******

Keith stood in the entrance to the room, his pack still slung over one shoulder. They’d taken him straight from the hangar to a war room meeting, during which Kolivan had called in from an offsite location to give them their instructions. It had taken a only handful of doboshes to conduct the entire meeting: he’d send the mission details in an encrypted download. There was no discussion or debate, no humorous quips or attempts to make fun of Keith. They had all quietly listened and accepted their vague orders. When Keith had messaged Kolivan during the previous movement about possibly working more closely with the Blades, he had prepared himself for this. Things wouldn’t be the same here, they couldn’t be, but it was what needed to be done. Keith needed to be here now.

“If you’re trying to decide which bed you’d like, you’re welcome to join me in mine.” The voice was deep and the breath on Keith’s neck was warm.

Keith tensed his body, breath caught in his throat. He tried not to let it show that he’d been startled. He breathed out through his nose and stepped into the room, pivoting to face the Mamoran agent who’d surprised him. It was the pilot who’d retrieved Keith from Olkarion, a Galra named Dhulkoz. 

“Which bunk is mine?”

Dhulkoz leaned on the door frame with one hand above his head on the door, the other on his hip. He was one of the larger Galra Keith had met so far, his hulking frame taking up pretty much the entire doorway. He took a moment to give Keith an uncomfortable look over, his lip curling into a smirk around the tusks that grew from his bottom jaw. He nodded to the left side of the room. 

“Bottom is open.”

“Thanks.” Keith unslung his pack and tossed it on the bed. “Who else is in this room?”

Dhulkoz wouldn’t stop staring at Keith. It was unnerving. It felt hungry. Keith had seen the look once before, back during the time he’d been tossed from foster home to foster home. Keith squared himself up and tried to look bigger than he was. Dhulkoz seemed to take the hint, instantly relaxing and entering the room, his yellow eyes no longer locked on Keith. He kicked off his boots and started to undo his space suit.

“Regris,” Dhulkoz said as he pulled his arms out of the black uniform, “he was my co-pilot today. Also Prak, he’s your top bunk mate, an engineer. I think he’s on duty now though.”

Dhulkoz stepped out of the suit and hung it on the wall at the foot of the beds. The small pair of black undershorts he wore clung to him, but stayed in place, and he used one foot to shove his boots to the space beneath his hanging suit. His skin was mauve, like most Galra, but he had stripes of lilac and magenta all down his back and shoulders, the edges of some wrapping partway down his arms and thighs. His muscles, large and well-defined, flexed as he undressed, changing the shapes of the stripes slightly. His large ears were pointed with large pointed lobes, and his dark hair was shaved in an undercut with the top left long and braided. Dhulkoz caught him staring. 

“Offer still stands.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Ah, so you’ve settled in already?” Regris sauntered into the room, his mask down. Keith had been surprised when they first arrived at the base and the agent had lowered his helmet. He had large, double cat ears that stood out quite a ways from his face. It must be uncomfortable for him in the mask.

“Yeah,” Keith said, staring at Dhulkoz as he spoke. “We’ve got an early start, right?”

Regris began undoing his suit with his tail as he gently slipped off his boots, his long feet ending in two clawed toes. “We need to leave here in six varga.” He peeled off his uniform to reveal a small white tank top and black undershorts, his skin several shades of soft blue with the occasional dark accents. “We’ll get a little shut eye and be on our way.”

“Sounds good,” Keith said. He shrugged off his jacket and boots, but otherwise remained dressed as he was. He placed the boots on the floor beside his new bed, and sat down next to his pack. Dhulkoz waggled his eyebrows; Keith stared harder — and then Dhulkoz had turned away and was lying in his own bunk across the room, arranging some pillows. Regris shut the door to the hall, seemingly unaware of the showdown that had just taken place.

“I’ll wake everyone when it’s time to prepare,” Regris said. Then he touched a wall panel with his tail and the lights went out.

*******

[](https://s189.photobucket.com/user/enemytosleep/media/IMG_7425_zpsk7pljqvo.png.html)   
Dhulkoz portrait by CandyFoxDraws 

*******

“So it looks like we’re heading to the Karthulian System.” Regris sat forward in his seat and scrolled through the information screen of his wrist band. “A mostly unoccupied planet known as Griezian Sur.”

“Mostly?” Keith asked. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his glove once again. He hadn’t slept much before they’d left. 

“There’s a Galran port and an old mining operation on one part of the surface, but according to our intelligence, the majority of the planet is unguarded.”

Dhulkoz snorted out a laugh. “There must be a reason for that.”

“The local indigenous are quite … large? It seems they have somewhat of a standing truce with the Galra; given how far on the outer reaches of the empire this system is, it’s possible that they haven’t had enough fleet support to front a full assault.” Regris looked up from his screen to his teammates. “Not worth the effort to wipe them out, it seems. The Galra mostly use this port to restock fleets as they pass through, and there aren’t many fleets passing this region.”

It seemed there would be some troublesome wildlife that even the Galra didn’t bother messing with. _Got it._ “So what’s our objective?” Keith asked.

“We have an agent undercover there. She has new information to pass onto us at an old drop point.”

“Ah,” Dhulkoz said, “so we’ll be camping then?”

“Yes, it’s far easier to land outside of Galran airspace, plus the drop point is off base as well. No need to get too close.”

“So, little Keith, we’ll be pretty exposed in the jungle, and all of the locals are hostile. Any Voltron troubles we should know about?”

“Excuse me?”

“I was there for your initiation. We fought, actually, in the third section of your test. I felt bad attacking someone so small, but I think we both know that you’re not delicate.” Dhulkoz smirked around his tusks. “It was almost a good fight all things considered.”

_A dark figure loomed over him, faceless, sword pressed firmly to his throat. "Surrender the blade and the pain will cease.” He would never surrender this blade._

“Anyway,” Dhulkoz continued, “I remember what happened with the Red Lion when you were in danger. It shred into our base pretty bad. Took more than a pheobe to finish the repairs after you left.”

Keith hadn’t really thought about the impact he might have had on the Blades. He’d been too wrapped in his own revelations to even consider it, which was shitty of him. He’d have to work hard to make up for all of that. For now, though, he really didn’t like the fact the Dhulkoz clearly remembered him, but had said nothing until just now. They’d all been in masks back then, no introductions, so it’s not like Keith could have known or remembered anyone outside of Kolivan. Why hide that information?

_Keith’s chest heaved as he struggled to suck down enough breath, the deep gash in his shoulder burning while the arm itself was starting to feel numb. He could barely force himself to stand. “You are not meant to go through that door. Give up the blade!”_

Keith gave Dhulkoz a hard look. “There won’t be any problems with the lions.”

“Looking at the reports,” Regris hissed, “the lions might be handy right about now.”

“Guess we’ll have to make due with this little monster.” Dhulkoz had that look again, the one Keith definitely did not like.

“I’ll do my best,” Keith said, refusing to break eye contact. Dhulkoz quirked one eyebrow, then looked back to the piloting consoles. 

Keith leaned against the seats he stood between and thought ahead to this mission. Kolivan had agreed to let Keith work directly as an agent, and he was determined to make this work. Shiro needed him to, even if he didn’t want to admit that, even if he thought Keith should replace him. Yes, Keith was a paladin of Voltron, but he was also a Blade of Mamora. He’d passed the test, he was _here_ doing _this_ … but he got it. He had just showed up one day with an old knife and no idea about any of it. He had to prove himself in the trials back then, but he also had to prove himself now. He would be an asset to the Blade of Mamora, and soon, they would see that he was one of them. Hopefully in time, so would Shiro and the team.

*******

If the lions of Voltron were living, breathing creatures, this was probably where they would have lived. The jungle was huge. Impossibly huge, immense. The trees were so thick around, it was like walking downtown in the big city, except the skyscrapers had bulging roots taller than buses with vines as thick as cars growing over everything; the sky was completely blocked out by the dense, green canopy that stretched out so far overhead it may as well be the sky itself.

Dhukolz had expertly touched them down in the middle of it, outside of Galran airspace and Galran scanners, and they’d left the ship on the jungle floor cloaked and with a force field active. They’d taken with them their meager supplies, some hydration packs and some dried rations, and they’d set out in the direction of the drop point on foot. It was very hot on this planet, and humid, but they marched without a word. Keith wondered briefly what climate the Galran home world once had, and whether these two were as sweaty as he was. Did they even sweat? Keith could feel his hair was already soaked through, stuck to his neck with two small rivers dripping down the center of his back. His new uniform was going to be pretty damn disgusting by the time they got back to base.

“We’ll have to make camp in a few varga,” Regris said as he read figures off of his scanner hologram. “We’ll make it to the drop point tomorrow afternoon.”

“Looking forward to it,” Dhulkoz said flatly.

Keith snorted despite himself. 

Their reports had mentioned the local indigenous as highly combative, but so far they hadn’t run into anything that wasn’t plant-life. Keith wasn’t sure if that was due to luck, but if they could get in and get out without trouble, he wouldn’t have any complaints. Good luck wasn’t something he had much experience with, though, so he kept his eyes and ears open while they climbed over giant roots and vines in the wet, jungle heat.

After a while, Dhulkoz broke the silence. “What do you think Voltron’s up to while you’re gone?”

“No idea.” 

“If you don’t want to share that’s fine, just making conversation while we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Okay, he hadn’t meant it to come out like that, but truthfully he wasn’t really in the mood for sharing, especially with this guy who constantly made Keith feel on edge just by looking at him.

“I just meant that I don’t know what they’re up to right now. We sort of always took missions as they came up, helping the people who needed it most.”

“That’s understandable I guess. From what I’ve heard, there are some jobs that only Voltron can handle.”

“Yeah, I guess so. There’s still a lot to do on Olkarion, too.”

“The Blade of Mamora has always worked to destabilize the empire,” Regris said, “but we’ve never collaborated with other forces before. It’s sort of new territory for all of us.”

“Definitely,” Keith said. 

New territory, new collaborations … even though the team had Shiro back now, things had changed. There was this uncomfortable tension where Shiro should have stepped back into his role as team leader, but the Black Lion was refusing to recognize him. Keith desperately kept deferring to Shiro to no avail. _Shiro_ was the leader of Voltron and always had been, but Shiro wasn’t on the ground with them now, and the team kept expecting Keith to make the call, for Keith to lead them. Before, while Shiro had been missing, Keith had learned to make those calls. Someone had to lead the fight, and he could do that for Shiro for a while, to continue the fight in his absence; but now it was confusing and messy, which was part of why Keith was here on this planet so far from the rest of the team. If Keith were gone, maybe the team would have the chance to bond with Shiro again, maybe he could be a pilot again. He’d been the best and brightest in Earth’s history. He was still the best. 

Keith couldn’t help but feel for Shiro. He’d recovered from his recent ordeals, at least physically, but there was a friction there when Shiro spoke. Keith could imagine some of what that entailed. Every bad foster home had left a mark on Keith, even if he tried to forget about it, tried to hide it. Shiro had been captured by the Galra twice now. It had to fuck with his head. There was no way it wouldn’t. In Keith’s experience, Shiro needed to get back to routine, and he couldn’t do that if Keith was in the way. Kolivan had offered to work with Voltron to bring down the empire, but more specifically, he had offered to work with Keith. Voltron had helped the Blade of Mamora make some big moves against Zarkon, and Kolivan said they could use operatives like Keith on the ground. Maybe this was his true calling? Maybe this was the way to step back and let Shiro take the lead again, like he was _supposed_ to. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lost in his own thoughts, but the heavy sense that he was being watched snapped Keith back to attention. He stopped walking and tilted his head to listen to his surroundings. They all had stopped. Regris swiveled his wide ears in several directions. Dhulkoz took a hard sniff of the jungle air — and Keith grabbed the hilt of his knife, activating the blade as he spun on his feet.

There was a creature, large as a bear, and it was gliding through the air on flaps of skin that stretched between its legs on each side. Keith dove out of the way as it swooped down at them. Once he rolled and was on his feet, he readied his sword. The creature sunk sharp talons into the bark of the tree root it had landed on and swung its head to face Keith and Regris. It pulled back it’s lips and hissed at them; it had two rows of crooked fangs, long and thin like barbs.

“What the hell is that?” Keith shouted.

“Dinner, hopefully.” Regris readied his sword and side stepped slowly to flank the creature. 

The creature turned and hissed in the other direction. Dhulkoz must be all right. Keith stayed put and waited, tried to stay loose so that he could react more quickly. The beast’s rust red fur was thick and greasy down the spine, it’s long tail thick and a little flat. The skin flaps on each side folded over themselves and flapped uselessly as the creature moved and snapped at them. It must be an ambush predator of some sort.

Dhulkoz roared. The beast flinched. Keith rushed in.

At first, it looked like the creature would go for Dhulkoz, who was the closest — but then it whipped its head back around at Keith, and he slashed at its muzzle before jumping back a few feet. Regris flashed in Keith’s peripheral for a brief moment, and then the beast screeched and spun around, nearly knocking Keith off the giant tree root with its thick tail. Keith didn’t wait. He leapt onto the beast’s back and sunk his sword into it’s spine. Dhulkoz had rushed in and stabbed at it’s ribs in the same instance. Keith concentrated on his footing as the beast thrashed violently. He pulled the sword to his right to try and sever the spinal cord. Regris had sliced at its rear limb, severing the joints and disabling it. Keith felt his blade wedge between the vertebrae and then a sickening, swift pop. The creature screamed, but its movements were weaker. Keith pulled out his sword and stabbed again. 

It was dying. 

Dhulkoz sliced deep into its throat. It was dead.

Regris wiped his blade clean before sheathing it, then pulled his scanner device from his belt and began scanning the body.

“This was a baxaricyon, carnivorous. It’s safe to eat.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Dhulkoz said as he sliced into the muscled thigh of the dead creature.

Keith scanned the area. The roots and vines were so thick that the actual ground wasn’t visible. It hadn’t been for most of their trek. “Where do we build a fire where it won’t spread?” he asked.

“Fire?” Regris asked.

“You wanted to eat—“ Keith stopped talking when Dhulkoz took the chunk of meat he’d just cut and bit into it, raw. Blood ran down his chin in thin rivulets. He held eye contact while he swallowed, then took another tearing bite.

Keith felt Regris watch him for a moment, but he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away for some reason. Then Regris seemed to put things together. “Ah, do Earthlings not consume things raw?”

Keith swallowed something down as he watched Dhulkoz. It felt like an eternity before he was able to look away to meet Regris’ face. “Not meat, usually. No.”

“I thought you were part Galra, though?” Dhulkoz shouted over to them.

“I don’t think I’m enough Galra for this.”

“Don’t know until you try.” Keith did not want to try.

“Unfortunately we can’t build a fire here,” Regris said, looking sorry. “Not only would we risk detection by the Galran base, but it has been documented that the Muldok do not take kindly to such things.” 

“The Muldok? Those are the locals?”

“Yes.”

“I see. I guess I’ll have to make due, then.”

Regris gave him a sympathetic look, and then he too cut off a chunk from the creature and helped himself to dinner. Keith pulled out a ration pack and sat with his back to them, trying to feel hungry, and failing.

*******

“We’ll spend the night here.” Regris slipped off his boots, then carefully wrapped his tail around them. He stepped up to the base of the enormous tree, reached up, and sunk his claws into the bark overhead. Then he stepped up and sunk the two large claws of his left foot into the bark; he hauled himself up something like a squirrel, and repeated the process while Keith and Dhulkoz waited on the roots.

“He’s always handy, that one,” Dhulkoz said as they watched their teammate make steady progress up the tree.

“Yeah.”

Several doboshes later, a cable came into view as it was lowered down at a cautious pace. When it was in reach, Dhulkoz grabbed the end and handed the carabiner clip to Keith. “You first.”

Keith clipped himself to the cable and gave it a quick tug. It was secure. He tugged again. Somewhere up top, unseen from the jungle floor, Regris took up the slack. Then, Keith carefully felt the bark and found holds deep enough to fit his fingers into; he gripped the bark with the toes of his boots, pushing himself up using the grooves. It was just like rock climbing, which he’d done a lot of back in the desert. The sandstone there had been rough, but full of climbing holds, not terribly different than this giant alien tree.

Regris pulled the cable slack taut as Keith climbed. It was taking forever. It was tiring as hell — but the light was fading fast in the jungle, and he did _not_ want to be left caught on the ground as easy prey. Finally, _finally_ , he reached the large tree limb where Regris was perched, and together they hauled Keith up over the side of it. He was pretty sure he’d felt that tail grab the back of his belt at one point. Once he was up, he unclipped himself and they lowered the cable down for Dhulkoz. 

It was hard to say, but it felt like Dhulkoz made quicker progress climbing than Keith had, though Regris said nothing and it wasn’t worth asking about. When the large Mamoran reached the tree limb, he clawed his way up as the other two grabbed onto him and pulled. At this point the light was entirely gone, so Keith was sort of grabbing and pulling by sound and touch. Dhulkoz was very heavy, but it didn’t take long to get him settled. _At least it wasn’t Hunk._

“I’ll take first watch,” Regris offered. 

“Fine by me,” Keith answered. The Galrans’ eyes reflected back at him, large yellow circles flashing in the darkness like strange space cats. He could only assume they had some level of night vision. Growing up, Keith had always been the odd one out, and it seemed he was keeping true to form here too. At least his helmet had night vision for when it was his turn to keep watch.

“Need a bunkmate?”

Keith sighed and settled his back against the tree trunk with Regris in between them.

“I’ll wake you in two varga,” Regris whispered.

“Sounds good.”

“Good night, Keith.” Dhulkoz called from Regris’ other side.

*******

“Here we are.” Regris turned off his hologram using his tail. “This is an old site. This dropbox hasn’t been used in many decaphebes.”

“Well isn’t this exciting,” Dhulkoz said. 

Aside from the small blip on their scanners indicating otherwise, there was nothing here but jungle debris; and the scanner blip hardly counted as they had plotted in these specific coordinates. Regris said the drop point was lined with fibronium so that the Galra wouldn’t detect it. It also meant that it was harder for the Blades to find it too. They all stood and faced the ground between them for a moment.

“So,” Keith said. “We dig?” 

The trees here were further apart than the sections of jungle they had trekked across, and so they were actually standing on the ground now instead of endlessly climbing over roots and vines. Well, if not the ground, then at least on top of the spongy layer of rotting fauna that coated it. Regris had diligently lead them to this spot, so without further ado, Keith grabbed the multi-tool from his belt pouch and set it to shovel mode. In terms of size, it was more like a large spade, but it beat digging by hand. Plus it was small and versatile, which cut down on the number of supplies they needed to carry with them. Pidge and Hunk would likely be impressed.

_Keith strapped the old shovel to his hoverbike, as well as the crowbar he’d found behind the desert shack. He checked that he had the map in his backpack, the one he’d been working on. There was some jerky and a few bottles of water in there too. Then, he mounted his bike and set off into the Arizona horizon, following his gut._

Dhulkoz and Regris each followed suit, and with the three of them digging, it didn’t take terribly long to toss aside the slimy vegetation and dirt to find a small metal box. Dhulkoz and Keith both glanced at each other for a brief moment, and then they each wedged their spade between the wet dirt and the edge of the box, prying it up and out. At first it hardly budged, but then it started to slide until it was free of the mud. Regris crouched over the box, examining it. Then he carefully entered a code into the side panel with his tail. The box beeped quietly, and then there was a metallic click as the lock opened. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled through the sky. Regris quickly popped the lid to the drop box.

Inside the box was a smaller box, about the size of a ring case. Regris lifted it in between his long claws, then used his tail to open the tiny lid. Inside this box was a data disc. Regris quickly pocketed it and snapped the tiny box shut.

“We should get this back in the ground and get back to the trees, quickly.”

No one argued — Keith still expected to hear Lance and his remarks at every turn — so they let Regris lock the box, and then Dhulkoz shifted it back into its hold in the ground. The three of them set to work reburying it, being sure to carefully layer the giant, decaying leaves to hide the fact that they had been here at all. As soon as they were done, they began the long hike back, keeping quiet while they were in the open. Thunder cracked again, less distant than the first rumble. 

“Sounds like we’re going to get a storm,” Keith said. _Well, that was obvious. Good job, Keith._

“All the better reason to make camp soon,” Dhulkoz replied. 

They hiked quickly back toward the tree line as Regris popped the disc into his handheld device. “Initial download should take a few tics … and here we go. First glance it looks like supply route coordinates.” He scrolled through the data with his tail as they walked. The air grew heavy as the light began to fade around them. “Looks like more intel on the supply ships, their crew. Nothing on the cargo though. Strange.”

“Can we find out more?” Keith asked.

“Yes, once we get back to the ship.” Regris stowed the disc in his belt once again, then started pulling up their ship’s coordinates on a hologram map. 

Then the rain started.

*******

“Here,” Dhulkoz yelled. Keith looked over and caught the fruit he’d been tossed. They looked like giant berries of some sort, purple and the size of grapefruits, connected by vines like grapes. “Since all you had were rations yesterday.”

This tree had countless vines twisted over the bark and around each limb, and the vines bore fruit. In the distance, the rumbling of thunder sounded closer than it had when they’d first started climbing. The rain had started a few varga before they’d made it far enough to consider camping for the night, so they had long been soaked and soggy, and their climb had been far more difficult than yesterday’s. Now they were trying to settle themselves into the tree limbs for the night, but the rain made even this difficult. The vines were slippery, and the bark was not much better. All around them, the rain filled giant leaves with small pools, and then each leaf would collapse and dump its contents onto them in a strong rush. It was difficult to keep balanced like this. 

“Let’s group together,” Dhulkoz shouted. He squinted as he looked at Keith. “No, I mean it. We have to anchor in or we’re gonna get washed right out of this tree.”

“Fine,” Keith called over the roar of the downpour. 

The three Blades huddled close against the tree trunk, as close to the center of the branch as they could. Regris ran a cable from his belt, planting a piton on one side of him deep into the bark before running the cable back through his belt. He passed the open end to Keith, who strung it through his own belt before passing it to Dhulkoz on the other side. Dhulkoz connected his belt, then attached another climbing piton from his pack and sank that into the bark on his other side. The jungle had been unbearably hot for days, but now that he had stopped moving, Keith felt the chill of night sink into him, starting at the tips of his ears, then his nose, then his gloved fingers. 

It was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Unbreakable Heart" by Three Days Grace


	2. Chapter 2

Eyes still closed, Keith buried his face into whatever he was leaning against. The sun was bright through his eyelids, the warmth of it slowly revitalizing him. He could tell that was still soaking wet, but if this harsh sun was out, then he should dry out soon. As he grew more aware of his surroundings, he realized he was leaned against something breathing. He snapped his eyes open.

Sometime in the night, Keith had succumbed to sleep, and sometime after that, he had snuggled into Dhulkoz’s side as they sat against the tree. The Galran had one arm draped over Keith’s shoulders, pulling him close, and Keith had found a comfortable spot to rest his head on his chest. Dholkoz was still asleep, his breaths slow and deep, his arm heavy. They were still strapped in with their makeshift belt. To his left, Regris leaned back against the tree with his arms cushioning his head as he idly watched the sunrise.

“He’s not that bad, you know.”

“Who? Dhulkoz?”

“He comes on strong, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“If you say so.” He’d never said that Dhulkoz was a bad guy, but it was true that he’d felt that way once or twice so far. Keith could admit that he was maybe more wary and suspicious than was strictly necessary at times, a bit of a learned response. He didn’t think that was about to change any time soon, either.

“He talked about you for weeks after your initiation.”

“Okay?”

“He was so impressed by the Earth paladin, and curious how you came to have a blade. I mean, we all were, but Dhulkoz especially. He put in the request to have you join our squad pheobes and pheobes before you ever came back.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I guess I just don’t want to see him blow his chance. He sees someone he likes and he gets all stupid.”

Keith knew someone exactly like that, someone who hid his insecurities with bad jokes and pick up lines. Someone who had a large personality that was sometimes a little too much to handle — but he would _always_ have Keith’s back, would always be Keith’s right hand man. Keith wondered if Hunk had ever spoken to Allura like this.

“I appreciate you telling me,” Keith said.

“It’s nothing.” Regris grinned. “Let’s wake the idiot up now.”

*******

The lights were all off with only the blue glow of the Altean panels casting soft shadows. Shiro sat up in bed, his shoulders slumped forward as he stared at the foot of it, or rather he stared through to something far beyond that only he could see; Keith wished he could see what Shiro saw, if only so he would know how to help. Shiro’s long hair hung over his face and neck, now clean, but still matted. The stubble on his face was thick and nearly a full-fledged beard. Keith had only seen Shiro skip shaving once in all the years he’d known him, and that was right after Adam had left, right before the Kerberos mission. The sight of it made Keith’s stomach turn over slowly. Shiro was always so careful and put together, so meticulous about routine. Shiro needed his routines more than most, to keep ahead of his illness, to keep ahead of those who doubted in him. In a universe full of chaos, it was the little things that kept you grounded — and Shiro was drifting right now. That much was obvious.

Keith shuffled his feet as he stopped leaning on the wall and stood straight.

“Well, if you’re feeling up to it, the rest of the team will be thrilled to see you up and around again. They need you, you know.”

“Yeah?” Shiro did not look up. “I’ll try.”

Keith had been so relieved when they’d found him that he’d convinced himself that all would be fine and go back to normal. That naïveté was short-lived. It was quickly apparent that Shiro had been hurt, broken, and that it would take more than an Altean healing pod to fix. Keith was no good with this sort of thing, he knew that well. In fact, Shiro had been the one to rescue Keith back then, to help him wrangle his pain and find purpose in his losses. Keith wasn’t sure exactly how to return the favor, but he was going to try. He had to: Shiro needed him to. It had taken Keith years to really work through things before, so for now all he knew was that he needed to give Shiro time. Let him know that he was there for him whenever he was ready, that they’d saved his place for him. He looked at Shiro again and lost the words.

Keith stepped outside of the room, the twisting in his gut unrelenting. He looked back again. “Okay. We’ll be on the bridge.” He turned to leave, took a step down the hall—

“Hey, Keith?”

He ducked his head back into the room, Shiro still fixated on that faraway point beyond his bed. “Yeah?”

“How many times are you going to have to save me before this is over?”

“As many times as it takes.” On this point, Keith had no doubts. He would _always_ take care of Shiro, no matter what it took. There was more Keith could say, but he he didn’t. Now was not the time. Maybe it would never be the right time; it often seemed that way to Keith.

“Keith?” Shiro was looking at him now, finally looking _at_ Keith and not through him.

Keith swallowed down the elation that bubbled over. “Yeah?”

“I — I need you.”

Keith stepped back into the room. “You know I’m always here for you, Shiro.”

Shiro looked lost, desperate, like he was drowning and Keith was a lifeboat. He sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed Shiro’s flesh shoulder. Shiro looked at him, reached forward and cupped the back of Keith’s head with his prosthetic hand. He leaned forward, flicked his eyes to Keith’s lips, then back again, his expression hungry, animalistic. 

Keith’s gut squirmed, his pulse pounding in his ears. He’d imagined scenarios like this before, ones in which Shiro reciprocated the burning need Keith felt whenever he thought about him. He’d never told a soul about those thoughts; Keith had been positive that Shiro cared for him, but not in this way, the way Keith had grown to care for Shiro ever since coming to space. 

Shiro closed the distance, pressing his mouth against Keith’s in a hurried rush. His nearly-beard rubbed against Keith’s chin, his hands wound themselves into Keith’s hair. Keith’s brain caught up to him and told him he should say something, but then Shiro’s tongue was in his mouth. He was pulling Keith into his lap, his arms so large and so strong. Keith reached up, placed his hands on Shiro’s face. Shiro tilted his head, his big ear pressed into Keith’s hand, and he stroked his thumb over it. Shiro moaned deep in his throat. Shiro had been drifting, but now he acted with purpose. Shiro wouldn’t lie to him, he knew that much.

Keith kissed him back.

Maybe this was what Shiro needed. Keith had wanted this for a long time now. Shiro’s hands rucked up the back of Keith’s shirt, his fingers pressing deep into the backs of his shoulders. Keith melted forward until their chests touched, pushed back the chunk of Shiro’s hair that threatened to get swallowed down as they kissed. Keith ran his hands down Shiro’s arms: one tense and rippling, the other solid and strangely-warm. Shiro pressed one hand firmly against Keith’s lower back, the other on the back of his head. Maybe this was what Keith needed, too.

Together, they tumbled down to the bed in a mess of roving hands.

*******

“Well … _yllenvrik_.”

Keith snorted. “Yup. Pretty much.” 

“I take it these are the locals, Regris? The ones the empire decided to leave alone?”

They all watched the group of giant humanoids as they worked on their kill, snarling at each other and forcing their way toward the carcass that lay far, far too close to their cloaked ship.

“Yes, indeed.”

“ _Yllenvrik?_ ” Keith offered. He was sure he’d mispronounced it, but they each laughed, so mission accomplished. If Keith had learned anything from his time as the Black Paladin, it was that there was such a thing as _too intense_ and _too much pressure_ when it came to impossible tasks. If they could stay calm and relaxed, they could figure this out. “So was there anything in the files on this planet that might be useful here? Any weaknesses or anything we can use to our advantage?”

“Well, they’re a very primitive race, and they have not responded well to advanced technologies.”

Dhulkoz looked to Regris, keenly. “And by that, do you mean they’ve smashed things? Like ships?”

“Yes, there were numerous reports of such damage.”

Some of the muldok had apparently had their fill of meat and were now reclining amid the roots of the trees, one of them absently picking at a vine with two of its three elongated fingers. They could try to wait them out, let them leave, but it seemed increasingly likely that the muldok would stumble upon their ship — and would likely be confused by the unseen object they’d discovered. Each muldok was large enough to stand nose-to-nose with the Black Lion, and there were eight of them here. They couldn’t couldn’t risk losing their ship and getting stranded. They’d have to do something. Keith’s mind raced through the possibilities.

“So you’re saying that even if we snuck down there and boarded without them noticing, as soon as we start her up they might, uh,” Keith paused, trying to find the right words, “smash us?”

“Precisely. We need to wait for them to vacate the area before we can safely board and take off.”

“What are the odds on them finding us in the night and taking us out?” Dhulkoz asked.

“From what we know they do hunt and eat small prey. So, even though they had a fresh kill today, it’s not out of the question.”

“What we need is a diversion. Get them to leave the area so we can board and take off without them getting involved. As it stands now, they are dangerously close to stepping on our cloaked ship and scaring themselves over it. We also can’t rely on them not sniffing us out while we wait for them to move on.”

Dhulkoz turned his chin down to smirk at Keith. “And what did you have in mind, exactly?”

Keith folded his arms across his chest. “Which one of us is the fastest runner?”

*******

Dhulkoz laced his fingers together and offered Keith a foothold. Keith stepped up with one foot, and Dhulkoz boosted him up the massive tree root. He sank his climbing pitons into the bark as carefully as he could, then pulled himself up the last few feet to the top. Dhulkoz hopped up to grab Keith’s outstretched arm with one hand, grabbing one of the pitons in the other. They got him up to the top quietly, both in a low crouch as they eyed the sleeping muldok. Nearly all of the giant creatures had settled down for a post-hunt nap, their muddy-yellow hide blending into the dusk jungle palette.

Dhulkoz had Regris’ boots tied to the back of his belt in the spot Keith usually strapped his own blade. It was a little ridiculous-looking, but Regris could climb far, far faster without them on. Keith was glad to have his mask up only so that Dhulkoz wouldn’t catch the little laugh he’d just choked down. Satisfied that they had not been spotted, Keith pried loose his pitons, then slowly crept along the root along the base of the tree. He and Dhulkoz were about half-way to the cloaked ship, but they were moving at a glacial-pace. Regris was almost guaranteed to beat them to the punch at this rate. 

He glanced back at Dhulkoz, the glowing lights of his mask an unsettling substitute for the calculating eyes that were under there. Dhulkoz checked his wrist device and mimed an eight-count. _Not Good_. It was too risky to speak or use radio right now, so it was all they could do to race the clock and make it to the ship before Regris started the show.

Keith reached the root’s edge first. If they followed this away from the trunk, it would put them about five hundred feet from the ship, where they’d had to cross open ground. Dhulkoz came up behind him and laid one hand on Keith’s elbow, then squeezed. Keith nodded and got down on his hands in a bear crawl. He moved only as quickly as he dared without slipping or making noise. He glanced back at Dhulkoz, his large frame automatically making him stand further apart from the root. He was falling slightly behind. Keith looked back at the muldok as they lounged lazily in the clearing, one of them with their massive tail flopped perilously close to the spot they’d left the ship; it seemed the alien was currently asleep. 

When Keith reached the mark, he looked back again. Dhulkoz was still a ways behind. Dhulkoz looked up and motioned for Keith to continue, so Keith pulled his climbing spikes from his belt once more and wedged them into the bark, then slowly worked his way down to the ground. The soft mud and leaves were mercifully silent as he settled his boots onto them. He stowed his pitons and began creeping his way toward the ship. So far so good—

There was a loud explosion in the distance. The muldok all sprang awake, screeching and hissing. Ten tics passed and a second explosion went off, the echoes from a slightly different position. Regris had managed to set the charges, then. He and Dhulkoz were supposed to already be by the ship, ready to board and fire the engines as soon as the clearing was empty. The muldok clambered to their feet, the ground shaking under their incredible weight as they stamped and came to consciousness. 

Abandoning stealth, Keith took off at a sprint toward the ship, punching the security codes into his arm bracer as he ran. A third explosion sounded, and this called the locals to action. With a thunderous growl, one of the larger muldok leaned forward on his knuckles like a gorilla and sprinted off into the trees toward the source of the explosions. The others followed, a cacophony of roars and growls and heavy feet. Keith’s sensors went off inside his helmet, and he could feel the static of the particle barrier around the ship. He punched the next code, and he could hear the electrical hiss as the barrier fell. The ship dock began opening at his request, but slowly, far too slowly.

One of the creatures screeched, angry, and Keith ducked as it swiped a heavy hand at him. While the outer hull of the ship still scrambled its cloaking particles, the exposed inner portion of the ship was now visible, floating several feet above the ground. Keith’s glowing uniform stood out from it all. He barreled his way toward the ramp; he could put the barrier back up once he was inside and hope that it would hold. 

Where was Dhulkoz? He had to still be behind somewhere. 

Keith’s boots met the metal ramp and he heard a familiar roar bellow in the clearing. Dhulkoz, blade drawn, was slicing at the muldok’s feet as he tried to fight his way toward the ship. Shit. Should he join Dhulkoz on the ground, or should he fire up the ship and its defenses?

Dhulkoz roared again and rolled between the muldok’s legs, popping up to his feet to slice at the alien’s heel. Keith turned away and raced toward the cockpit, hurriedly powering up all systems as he sank into the pilot’s seat. He pressed his thumbs onto the plasma ray trigger. Once, twice. The ship’s weapon fired several rounds of pulses into the giant’s back. He lost count, but the muldok went down.

“Get us up and out!” Dhulkoz shouted. He’d made it aboard.

“What about Regris?”

“We’ll find him once we’re airborne. If we stay here the others might circle back after that racket.”

“Copy, closing hatch, dinotherms are go. Firing thrusters in three, two” — Dhulkoz tossed himself into the copilot seat — “one.”

*******

Keith would never get used to these space showers. Sure, they were efficient, but the metallic tang of ozone made his nose tingle in a not-at-all pleasant way; his skin hated it, all goose pimples with the fine hairs on his arms puffed out like a scared cat. From experience, he knew well that if he stayed in here long enough the post-nasal drip would spoil his tongue for hours — but after the days-long jungle mission they’d just returned from, he was disgusting, and there was no way to make the ions scrub any faster. He really missed regular showers.

The quiet whoosh of the stall door opening jolted him from his thoughts.

“Shower in progress!” he called without turning around. Keith had thought the stalls were private based on how small they were, but he could have been wrong. The Garrison dorms had all been communal spaces, after all.

Dhulkoz stepped up beside Keith and laid a hand over his shoulder as he undid his braid with the other. “You really saved me today.”

“It’s no problem.” 

It was … uncomfortably intimate, being this close in the shower. Touching. He’d been around naked people before plenty of times. He wasn’t particularly shy when it came to that. No, this intimacy was something he only had a very limited experience with, and it had never ended well. There had been the rebellious streak after Shiro had disappeared during the Kerberos mission, which had been one questionable decision after the next. Then there was Shiro himself … Keith wasn’t even really sure whether it had ended or even begun at all; Keith had left Voltron without ever really talking about it with Shiro, or to anyone. He’d always sucked at connecting with others, speaking to them as eloquently as he felt things inside, and Shiro had seemed pretty clear that he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Maybe.

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Dhulkoz squeezed his shoulder. Before he’d really thought about it, Keith reached up and placed his hand over Dhulkoz’s, keeping it there. 

He knew that burning feeling deep in his gut now, the one that spoke of needs and dark wishes that Keith had learned only lead to pain. There was a voice in his head warning him against this. It couldn’t end well. It never did. 

He should tell that voice to shut up already. 

He opened his eyes and turned to face Dhulkoz. Dhulkoz reached out and cupped Keith’s face in two large hands. Keith tilted his chin up to look him fully in the eye. Keith missed this feeling. He missed the chemical thrill of strong hands gripping his arms as a warm tongue worked over the sensitive dip in his throat. Dhulkoz seemed happy to oblige him, doing just that. 

Would this change things between them the way things had shifted between him and Shiro? Did it even matter? Dhukolz had been pretty clear in his interests from the start, as far as Keith could tell. He was a Blade, someone who was ready to put his life on the line to take down the empire. There could be no real expectations here. This was nothing, just a shared moment in time. He pressed his body up against his teammate and took a shuddering breath as Dhulkoz traced a hand down Keith’s spine.

So, this was nothing, but right now, it was also nice.

*******

Keith lay in his bunk, absently flipping his knife in one hand as he turned over the events of the last few days in his head. He’d left his team, the ones who’d been depending on him to lead while their actual leader was missing. He’d left his only surviving family, the person who’d rescued Keith from a bad time in his life, who’d made him feel wanted and whole. Though he couldn’t really be sure anymore where he stood with Shiro — he might have ruined that before leaving. He’d left the only other humans anywhere in the surrounding galaxies, left the culture and language he’d known his entire life to pursue a part of his identity he had never known before. He hardly even knew it now.

_He was eight years old, standing in front of the gravestone that bore his father’s name. He … didn’t know what he was feeling. Sadness, sure. Confusion, definitely. There were so many things his dad had promised to tell Keith when he was older, but it seemed he would never know those things now. It didn’t feel real. His dad could still come to take him home, right? He stared through the engraving and missed his dad as fiercely as he could._

_“It’s time to go, Keith.”_

_This woman was a stranger, one he’d met only this week. She kept referring to herself as his case worker, which soundly vaguely as though she were a detective of some sort. It might be true, though, because Keith had definitely been the problem here. The case that needed solving: what to do with a boy with no family?_

_Keith huffed a determined breath out through his nose, then turned and followed this woman wherever she was taking him._

“You must be Keith. I’m Prak.”

Keith jumped a little, then squashed down the peevishness that rose up in his chest for being caught off guard.

“Hey.” He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Nice to meet you.” 

Prak nodded to Keith as he peeled off his boots and uniforms. Prak was much smaller than Dhulkoz, smaller even than Regris, and his skin was a flat purple with some bony knobs down his head and neck. The variances in Galra appearance were still pretty amazing to Keith.

Prak sat across from Keith on the edge of Dhulkoz’s bunk. A tiny voice in Keith’s brain argued that Prak should move. _Now._ “I hear you did well on your first mission,” Prak stated casually. 

Keith ground his teeth. “I guess I did well enough. I’ve had a bit of practice being a paladin of Voltron, though.”

“I had been hoping you’d bring a Voltron lion with you; I’d love to take a look at that engineering.” Prak had the same look about him that Hunk and Pidge did whenever they got their hands on some new, foreign tech. Keith had always found their enthusiasm endearing, adorable even, not that he’d ever told anyone. It was just nice to see people passionate about things, especially when those things could help others. 

“I know a few people on the team who’d be happy to show it to you sometime. I’m afraid I can’t answer much about it myself.”

Dhulkoz sauntered in the room, quietly shucking off his boots and uniform while Prak rattled on about Altean technobabble. 

“Hey,” Keith said. “Come from the mess hall?”

“Oh, hey Keith.” Dhulkoz hardly turned around to look at Keith. Keith could feel the fire in his chest, angry and consuming. It roared and grew stronger each moment Dhulkoz refused to look at him. _You’re overreacting, Keith. He has to play it cool; you both do._ Dhulkoz climbed into his bunk behind Prak, who took this a his cue to stand and finish waxing poetic on Voltron.

“Nice to meet you, Keith.” Prak was standing by Keith’s bunk, his arm outstretched.

Keith grasped his forearm and squeezed. “Same.”

Prak nodded, then climbed the short distance to his bunk above Keith.

“By the way,” Dhulkoz drawled from across the room, “I guess Kolivan is currently inbound with a mission for our group.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, mission briefing in about ten varga when Kolivan arrives. I’m gonna get some shut eye, I think. Long couple of days.”

“Yeah.”

_So that was it, then? _Keith was, if nothing else, consistent in his terrible decisions. He knew he was letting this get to him because he still hadn’t dealt with other shit, and really this was nothing. He’d known that already. Sighing, he sat and shoved his feet into his boots, then stormed out of the room without a word.__

__

____

*******

It wasn’t quite what Keith had imagined on the way here, but then his experience with intergalactic combat-training had been somewhat limited thus far; he didn’t have much to compare it to besides the Altean castleship and Lance’s action movies. The room was large and largely empty, save for the handful of Blade agents who were either currently battling each other on the open floor or reclining against the wall; it seemed they were simply watching or perhaps waiting their turn.

“Here to spar?” 

Keith looked down toward the seated agent. “Yeah, I guess.”

“All right: let’s see what you’ve got, New Guy.” 

The Galran man stood, stretching casually as he led Keith to an open spot of the training deck. He pulled his blade from its sheath, strapped to his back like an arrow quiver, then turned the blade over in his hand to reverse his grip. The blade glowed as it activated, changing from a boring dagger to a deadly scimitar with a wicked hook blade. The thought that he hadn’t even asked for this guy’s name struck Keith suddenly — and then it was gone.

Keith pulled his blade from its sheath and activated it as well. He was in his Earth clothing, which made him feel vulnerable, out of place. He should be more comfortable with that feeling by now. They circled each other quietly for a brief moment, before the nameless agent stepped in to close the distance with a downward slash of his blade. Keith blocked the strike, using both hands to steady his weapon against his much larger opponent. Then he bent his knee, letting his opponent’s own strength pull him forward as Keith spun and slashed his blade upward.

The volleyed and parried strikes at each other for several minutes, each of them easily blocking the other as they maneuvered in a tight circle. His opponent laughed as he blocked Keith’s strike and pushed him back with a straight kick. He was playing with Keith, clearly relaxed and outmaneuvering him. He was getting pissed off. Keith charged forward, sword hilt gripped with both hands as he swung his blade across his stance, aiming not to miss his opponent’s block, but instead to break through with the added force. The agent side-stepped Keith and struck him between the back of his shoulders with the butt of his sword, forcing the air from Keith’s lungs as he dropped to his knees.

“You have a Galran heart, but you lack the discipline of a Blade.”

Keith grit his teeth, then stood and walked away without looking back. He could hear the whispers rise up as he left the room, but he didn’t care. He needed to be alone, and now. 

He wandered the halls of the asteroid base aimlessly. He didn’t know where most things were, and he wasn’t paying much attention anyway. There were only so many places he could end up in the end; everything was one big loop that started and ended on the same asteroid. The guy from the training deck had been right, of course. Keith knew he was being rash, not using his head, but he was a little upset right now and he wasn’t so good about talking it out. Getting beaten in spar wasn’t nearly as satisfying as beating up training dummies, so he was running out of brooding options here. 

It had been some time since he’d seen Kolivan, so maybe this new mission would be the distraction he needed to get his head straight. He supposed Dhulkoz would be along as well, and like most other relationships in his life, Keith was fairly sure he’d made the wrong choices. Though maybe things hadn’t been as bad as he’d first thought. Dhulkoz had been discreet, hadn’t seemed angry or anything. So maybe they could work together and it wouldn’t be an issue. When would he stop making the same mistakes over and over?

*******

Shiro stood at the navigation console with his back to the door; he didn’t turn around when Keith had entered, clearly absorbed in whatever project he was working on. Keith admired how strong he looked for a moment: back straight, well-fed and with a fresh haircut that showed off the strong lines of his neck and shoulders. He could almost forget how small and breakable Shiro had seemed just one week ago when they’d first found him again.

”Hey,” Keith said as he slid his fingers over Shiro’s forearm and down over his hand, lacing his fingers between Shiro’s.

“Keith.” Shiro gave him a stern look. “What are you doing?”

He let go.

“I, uh,” he crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his jacket, “I guess I was checking to see how you were holding up now that you’ve officially been up an about.”

“I’m good. Thanks, Keith.”

Shiro punched in a few more lines of coordinates before exiting out of the screen he’d been working from to pull up a new screen with more coordinates, all marked in various colors that Pidge had explained earlier. Pidge and their color codes. Shiro concentrated on the holoscreens almost as if Keith wasn’t even there. _Fuck._

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” Shiro looked at him then, his confusion almost genuine. “No, no. I just think it’s imperative that we all focus on the mission right now. We need to keep ahead of the Galra as well as to strengthen the coalition, so I’ve been going over the data from Pidge’s Galra Finder to determine our next missions.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Shiro grimaced and clenched his fists on top of the console. “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about.”

This was a literal nightmare scenario, one Keith had run over in his mind more than once: that he’d taken advantage of Shiro before, that he’d projected his own feelings onto someone who was vulnerable and needed a friend. A real friend and not a selfish asshole.

“Right. Okay. I’ll, uh, be going then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marshmello feat. Bastille "Happier"


End file.
